Hurricane Jane

Sometimes life feels like a bad 90's movie. But maybe I just want to listen to the Violent Femmes and have ridiculous pseudo-intelligent discussions about my life's angst.

Every once in awhile I'll see something really weird walking down the street. And oddly, I'm usually the only one who reacts at all. Today it was a robot. But like a for real robot like the Flight of the Conchords video. So I don't think I'm delusional.


I slept in today for the first time in a month. And it felt wonderful. "Slept in" meaning 10+ hours of sleep. Lazy Saturdays are the best.

Then, in my third trip to Laurie's this week alone, I picked up the new Black Kid's album (allowing me to continue my record of being a total idiot, thank you).

Several of these songs were on their EP "Wizard of Ahhhs" and frankly sounded better then. Perhaps we can blame Capitol Records for the disparity, but the songs on "Partie Traumatic" are a lot more produced sounding. Which is probably the point. And while I do enjoy being able to understand all the lyrics, I've started to question the band's narrative style. However, lest you think my loyalties have shifted, I am still very enamored with the 'new' songs.

I also spent a sizeable portion of the day hanging around Dollop. Fortunately it wasn't awkward. Here's the thing. On Monday after Pitchfork I was tired and ended up on the express bus to work. Long story short, whilst I was standing on the curb I was approached by a slightly scruffy young lass. And because it had been a long weekend and I was blasting some music in an effort to wake up, I missed what she said at first. So, honest mistake, I thought she was asking for a dollar.

Now, I never carry much (if any) cash. But as it happened I had some money in my pocket but giving her the dollar only got me a weird look. Because as it turns out she's a Dollop barrista, and she thought she recognized me. And suddenly I was Sandra Bullock at the beginning of Two Weeks Notice when she puts money in the poor man's full cup of coffee (and whatever, it's in the previews for the film, don't judge me). Which mostly means I'm an asshole.

Anyway, if you were one of the lucky few I messaged on Facebook today, your picture probably came from Penny Postcards. It's a fun site.

"What's sweet? What's bitter?"

So Pitchfork fell firmly in the "Awesome" column again this year. I could probably spend an hour discussing the festival but I'm still exhausted. Perhaps if I spend any portion of this weekend at Dollop I can summarize the awesomeness that was Les Savy Fav, Jarvis Cocker, etc (sadly I missed M Ward but She & Him are playing in town soon.) I even managed to restrain myself at the record fair so I only picked up a few things:

1. British Sea Power-Open Season
2. Of Montreal-? 7" (Subtext Read, Nothing New?/Back to School)
3. Rainer Maria-Hell and High Water 7"

I've had side A of the last one on repeat for the past 24 hours or so. Until they're rolling out of the speakers, I tend to forget how much I actually enjoy Rainer Maria. I love their song titles but generally I skip over them on my way down the alphabet on my Ipod. Their roughness reminds me of Braid but not in a derivative way. But I digress.


"I've seen the girl who'll be brave when I run off
She's been picking her fights like she knows how to win them"

Ring Ring Ring...Banana Phone

Some people sleep walk, others talk in their sleep. My roommate makes crank calls when she's unconscious. True story!

I just got a new phone. It's kind of snazzy.



Last night I went to sleep at 1:30am. Whatever, I was watching Weeds and it's funny. Around 2:30 my phone rang. Weird! It looked like Jessica Simpson was calling me but in fact it was Sarah-Sarah. (Fun story, I got my phone in the Janesville mall where they have a Proactive booth with a picture of Jessica Simpson on it. So I took a picture of her picture and set it as Sarah-Sarah's caller ID photo. And then I found $5).

Back to the original story. So, ring ring ring, it's 2:00 am and Sarah-Sarah is calling. But when I answered she did not say anything. Then I fell back asleep. Ten minutes later she called me again! So, thinking something was wrong I went and knocked on Sarah's door. So either she was faking it, she sleep-dials or my phone is possessed.

I actually spent the rest of the night dreaming I was awake and my phone was possessed. But that is neither here nor there.

Sarah erased the evidence but here's proof that I did not dream the whole thing:


p.s. Also it turns out I am sort of distantly related to Celine Dion. My step mom's great grandmother was sisters with Celine Dion's great grandmother. How awesome is that?! (Note: very)